Although my original plan, since our Scotland trip, was to continue traveling internationally every other year, other challenges surfaced (job changes being one of them).  Thus, in 2000, my daughter and I stayed on the continent and did one of my first “fly and drives.”  The impetus for this trip was the planning of a memorial service for my mom.  She had died in December of 1999, in a Texas town far from where she was raised (buried in Kentucky, though – and, that’s another story).  So, my sister and I decided on a small service for her in my grandmother’s church in West Chester, Pennsylvania.  My grandparents were both long deceased, but had roots in eastern Pennsylvania.   The last few years of my grandfather’s life were busy with the proprietorship of a small country store – this was in the late 40’s and early 50’s.  Most of my mother’s relatives lived near the West Chester area, and many of the surviving nieces and nephews were also in that region.  My sister lived in New Jersey, my brother was in Kentucky, so we picked a mutually agreeable, meaningful place – Grove United Methodist Church (its religious roots go back to 1773 and the church is now considered a United Methodist Historic Site) in West Chester.  My grandparents are buried in the nearby cemetery.   At the time mom died, she had one surviving sister, her youngest sister, who then became the last of the nine siblings. My aunt lived in West Chester at the time.

In July, during my daughter’s summer vacation, we left Houston’s IAH for Philadelphia.   Upon arriving in that historic city, we obtained our rental car and drove to West Chester proper.   We spent a lovely night in a 19th century bed and breakfast.  The breakfast was superb, a good start for a long day.  We met my sister, my aunt, and numerous other cousins at the church.  The short service was a lovely memorial to my mom, with my sister and I doing eulogies.  There was no sermon; we didn’t think it necessary since my mom had not been a member of the congregation.  The organist, though, did supplement the service with some beautiful hymns which were my mom’s favorites.  After the service, my sister, daughter and I drove around the area and revisited my grandmother’s last home in Marshallton, PA.  I was, at that time, very happy to see that the countryside hadn’t changed a great deal since my childhood.  After an emotional brief stop in that village, the three of us set out for Lancaster County, PA.  Since we were planning to separate after visiting Lancaster County, my sister drove her car and my daughter and I continued in our hot red rental and made our way to St. Joy, Pennsylvania.  A few wrong turns and we finally made it to our destination.  We stayed at a modest bed and breakfast in that town for two nights and enjoyed two wonderful country breakfasts provided by the hosts.  (Although the World Wide Web was five years old, travel websites were just beginning to proliferate – Yahoo was a good source.  Books, though, were still fabulous resources, and there were plenty of great guides on B&B’s – thus, two very nice places were discovered and enjoyed.  Reservations and confirmations were still done snail mail and telephone.)

We had one day to visit the countryside and were definitely impressed by the cleanliness and the neat farm land, not to mention that they were situated in lush green and rolling hills.  The Pennsylvania Dutch were (and still are) apparently conscientious and organized folk who cared deeply for their land and heritage, which dates back to 1683.  There are many tourist spots along the main highways, but when driving away from these, we often shared the road with the traditional horse drawn cart.  We were also able to view a few terrific covered bridges.  After our second night in Mt. Joy, my sister returned to New Jersey due to work responsibilities, and my daughter and I set out for Kentucky.  The intention was to visit with my brother, who wasn’t able to attend the memorial service, and also to see my mother’s grave.  So, we traversed the Pennsylvania Turnpike, which has long enthralled me – I’m not sure why, perhaps I liked the way the rest stops were situated, in the middle servicing both sides of the highway.  Since it has been fourteen years, I’m hoping the roads and rest stops are still as good as they were then.  Ten hours and 569 miles later, through Columbus and Cincinnati, Ohio we arrived at our motel in Carollton, KY near Owenton.

We would have stayed with my brother, but since he had been renovating an old farm house for years, he wasn’t ready for guests.  We did visit my mother’s grave site – in a quiet hillside cemetery overlooking a little brook near my brother’s home.  I was satisfied – my brother had chosen well.  There wasn’t much sightseeing done, but we did get to see some lovely horse farms in between Frankfort and Lexington, and more importantly, my daughter got to know her uncle.  We were certainly impressed with the farms, though – the horse barns are huge and elegant – the grounds spectacular.  One can actually understand why Kentucky is nick-named the “blue grass” state.  It was a nice visit; however we had to get back on the road.  So, we reversed our route, made an overnight stay in Triadelphia, PA and ended up back in Philadelphia on a Thursday.  We stayed near the airport and took off for Houston the next day.   I need to retrace these steps, I miss PA.

February 19, 2014

(Note:  Not that I am totally obsessed with Valentine's Day, I just thought it timely to post this poem.  When I was writing regularly, I was encouraged to submit this to a poetry group.  To my surprise, I was awarded a nice monetary prize for it.  Hope you enjoy!)


LOVE IS
Unconditionally given, never coerced,
No strings attached, nothing forced.
Freely happens, instinctive,
Floods the senses, intuitive.
Places no boundaries,
Empowers and fortifies.
Immeasurable, simply exists,
Adoration and devotion persist.
Unmitigated joy, radiates,
Shines and illuminates.
Intensifies, sustains,
Revitalizes, never wanes.
Irrevocable, eternal,
Beautifully spiritual.
Positively  nurturing,
The impetus of being,
Being beloved.

July 1997

This is one of my favorite days of the year – it is probably because it is in February, and February is actually my favorite month.  I know, strange.  Why would anyone favor February, one of the coldest dreariest months of the year?   Well, there is actually quite a lot that goes on during this month, not to mention it is the shortest month of the year.  When I was in grade school, oh so many years ago, we celebrated both Lincoln’s and Washington’s birthdays separately.  And of course, there was Ground Hog’s day, my brother’s birthday (and mine, I might add) and Valentine’s Day.  Now we recognize Black History in this second month of the year, and there is also celebration of my child’s birth.  So, February is significant in my heart.   It is significant in nature, as well, most memorably in north east Texas, where those bright yellow flowering bulbs often poke their heads above ground and demonstrate their regal cheerfulness – daffodils abound in the latter part of the month.

 Valentine’s Day, then, is an appropriately cheerful day to me.    Who cannot be cheered by the colorful red hearts that appear as decoration in multiple sizes with various accoutrements?  And then, there are all the gorgeous flowers that await your purchase – the tulips, roses and other complimentary flowers combined in beautiful arrangements.   Even the shape of the heart is most pleasant – two “C” shaped halves facing each other as one – it is an easy shape to form, to cut.  It was easy for my small hands to make cheerful decorations that could be enhanced by paper doilies.  The bright red and vibrant pink construction paper took the gray from the wintery day.  And who cannot be delighted by the endless creativity of the packets of valentine’s cards that were and are available?  They always had clever sayings and charming sentiments.  I think, perhaps, the one most distinctive thing I liked about February 14, and this was true for all the schools I attended, was that everyone in my class was considered equal.  We all made our Valentine’s boxes or bags, we all gave cards to each classmate (sometimes the card was homemade) whether or not we really liked them.  No one was ignored, we all received something.  Each person was included. This is the legacy for which I thank my teachers.

Yes, I thank my teachers for carrying on a charming tradition.  Even though February 14th was once recognized as the Roman feast of Lupercalia, it was Christianized by Western Europeans to commemorate the martyrdom of Saint Valentine in A.D. 270.   In medieval times, Saint Valentine then became “associated with the union of lovers under condition of duress.” * I do not really want to know what is meant by “under condition of duress”.   It wasn’t until much later that romantic messages were exchanged, and then not until the mid-1800’s (when printing became easier and more prevalent) that cards became popular.  I’m glad the tradition has progressed into a more light hearted celebration.

And thus, I equate this day of hearts, not just with romance, but with real love.  By this, I mean, love for the human race.  I really don’t think we need to be over indulgent with gift exchanges.  Let’s keep the commercialism at bay.  I simply feel that that some recognition toward those for whom we care is all that is needed.   Of course, that should probably be done daily, if possible, yet it is fun to have a special day set aside for the sharing of such sentiments.  I also believe that a romantic partner is not required in order to participate in the joy – it is, to me, really a day for sharing gladness and the joy of life with everyone.  Happy Valentine’s Day!

*The Columbia Encyclopedia.  6th ed.  (2000).  s.v.  “Saint Valentine’s Day.”

Until recently, over the last year or so, I used to worry tremendously about weather.  I still, of course, get concerned, but I’m not as nervous as before.  With this last icy, rainy mix of weather we had in my area, I just hibernated without guilt.  When I had to travel to a work site, I always felt it was important for me to:  1) be there 2) be sure staff and facility were okay 3) set a good example – so, thus, I felt obligated.   The agony of wondering about road conditions is no longer paramount, and I don’t get on the road unless absolutely necessary.  I now have choices.   Although, there are places I do go, I no longer obsess over having to be in a certain place, my plans are more flexible.  Occasionally, when planning a trip, I am less flexible – and I have gotten caught in unpleasant scary weather.  But, I now listen with a much more relaxed frame of mind to all the weather reports and traffic updates.  With this last blitz of frozen precipitation, I didn’t leave my warm cozy home, not even to mail the letters I needed to mail.  I am very sorry for those that are and have been inconvenienced by the weather issues; however, I am deeply grateful I wasn’t one of them.

February 2014

What a delight, to finally go to Europe!  For as long as I can remember, I had wanted to see and experience other parts of the world.  And, at long last, in the 50th year of my existence, travel to Scotland was a dream come true.  Thankfully, and through the generous offer of friends who were expatriates at the time, we were able to visit in 1998 (the “we” was my daughter and myself).  Flights to Europe seemed to be more prolific, there were more choices of destination airports.  So, we were able to fly from Dallas to Glasgow, via Newark.  Everything went well, the longest leg had a good ending at a charming airport, not as large as D/FW, but we still had to adjust to airport procedures on foreign soil.   After obtaining luggage, we took a taxi to the train station and were impressed/awed/enthralled by the huge station!  It took us a few moments to get acclimated, and then we were able to figure out which track was for the train to Aberdeen and where we needed to wait.  There were many firsts during this trip, and this train trip began my love affair with European trains.

We had a nice compartment - since it had been previously reserved, no one intruded in our space and we were able to keep our luggage near.  Of course, I was totally enchanted with the landscape as it flew past my window.  Green, lush, even in July!  It was a two-hour trip, but I loved every minute of it!   The train pulled into Aberdeen.  Our friends met us near the end of the tracks – it had been about a year since we had seen them.  The joy and success of this first trip to Europe was due to the graciousness of our hosts.

We were soon transported to our host’s lovely one story farm house on the outskirts of Aberdeen – on the way we were treated to delightful sights of Scottish countryside – up two lane and one lane roads, alongside pastures populated by Highland Coo.  The home was lovely and our accommodations most comfortable.  As it turned out, our hosts were also our tour guides.  And, what wonderful places we were able to visit!  We started sight-seeing practically the minute we arrived.   Because it is advisable to just keep on going when arriving in another time zone to acclimate to that time zone, we set out for the south east of Aberdeen, in Aberdeen shire, and the remains of Dunnottar Castle.  Dunnottar, located on a cliff jutting out into the sea, majestically guards that part of the Scottish east coast.  A long foot path took us to the entrance of the castle.  It was unbelievably fascinating and daunting.

The next two wonderful days found us exploring several castles.  In between rain showers, the sun presented itself.  This was not bothersome, as I preferred this climate to the heat of Texas!   On our list of castle touring, we visited Crathes Castle, a 16th century fortress with a magnificent walled garden.  Everything was superbly maintained representing a conglomerate of periods.  I am now hooked on castle visiting.   After Crathes, we visited Drum Castle which belonged to the Irvine family for six centuries.  This Jacobean style castle houses beautiful period furniture, paintings and artifacts in large numerous rooms.  The Keep is one of the three oldest tower houses in Scotland dating from 1290, and The Common Hall was later turned into a Library in the 1840’s.  So much history to absorb in such a beautiful way!  On the Castle grounds, separate from the castle, sits a 16th century chapel where the Irvine’s regularly worshiped.

The third castle on our list was Balmoral, a Scottish Baronial designed estate, also in Aberdeenshire.  This was definitely a dream come true to be able to visit the country/holiday home of H. M. Queen Elizabeth the II.  Since the Queen often resides on the estate, the main part of the house was closed to visitors.  We were allowed to visit one part, the Castle Ballroom, still used for balls and the only part of the house open to the public. The architecture was spectacular – the estate’s first residents were Queen Victoria and Prince Albert in the mid 1800’s. It was bequeathed to the current Royal Family.  The visitor’s pavilion is quite accommodating with a nice coffee and gift shop.    Some of the surrounding grounds were also open for exploring, so we walked down a dirt road alongside the River Dee.  The day was grey and cool, the river energetic and rhythmic as we walked.  Majestic trees provided a glorious canopy.  The scent of the earth and foliage was divine – I was in one the most gorgeous spots in Scotland!

After Balmoral, we drove west to Braemar through more spectacular Scottish countryside – from lush forests to softly rolling hills.  Definitely strategic in its location, Braemar Castle was originally built in 1628 as a hunting lodge by the Earl of Mar.  During some later dispute, the castle was burned by the neighboring Farquharsons who ultimately ended up with the property.  The castle was restored in 1748 as a garrison post.  At the time of our visit, the family of Farquharson still owned the property.  The interior living space was accessible by a spiral stair well.  However, the design of the defensive “curtain” of the castle is in a unique star shape.  Fascinating.  I am so enthralled with castles!  However, it was time to return to Aberdeen.  In so doing, we traversed through charming towns via two lane roads.  In one charming town, whose name has escaped me, we stopped for a respite.  There in the main square of the town, we saw our first double decker bus, and best of all, what looked to me like a Clydesdale with a cart!  In the same square!

The following day we became acquainted with Aberdeen, strolled around the shops and the Provost Skene House.  The next day we were again on the road headed west, past Braemar Castle.  We stopped at Corgarff Castle.  When first sighted, it didn’t look that imposing – on a hill, all by itself.  But this building, set on lonely moorland, has a colorful history.  The dirt road leading to the castle winds up to the top of the hill.  The square tower building is predominant and was constructed in the mid 1500’s for the Laird of Corgarff.  Tragedy befell the Forbes family in 1571 when most of them perished in a fire.  Various disputes over many years ensued and the Earl of Mar took possession in 1715.  It was later converted to a military post when the exterior wall in the shape of a kind of flattened star with musket slits was constructed; much like its sister castle in Braemar.  This, then, became another garrison. The Forbes family descendants, however still resided there. In 1801 the castle returned to private ownership and went through a variety of existences.  But, in 1827, the military again took possession but abandoning it in 1831 when the castle began to fall in disrepair. However, it has been restored and now a museum.  Its austere presence in the countryside is definitely befitting a military post.

One of the highlights of this day was the visit to the Glen Livet Distillery on the Glen near the River Livet (Glen Livet is over 150 years old.)  Following many years of illicit distilling in the glens of the region, smugglers did not like the fact that the government finally sanctioned distilling if one obtained a license.  Even with the law on one’s side, it was still a dangerous business to distill legally.  And so began the long history of what is now Glen Livet Distillery (originally licensed in 1824) and its founder George Smith.  The modern distillery was fantastic.  I had not yet been to such a place and I was quite impressed by the cleanliness of the main area where the copper stills are located. The smell was erotic and luscious.  Two main ingredients make Glen Livet’s scotch whisky, malt barley and water.  The secret, as Glen Livet states, seems to be the water.  The River Livet comes down the mountain to the distillery which, in itself, is 900 feet above sea level.  The process is a long one, but the result is amazing.  There are many distilleries in this part of the world; the countryside’s harsh climate is perfect for such.  Farmers sell their grain, distillers make the magic and the world enjoys the final result.  Following our tour of the facility, we had a tasting of the whisky produced.  Scotch whisky must be aged at least three years, but many are aged longer and released at varying intervals.  Leaving Glen Livet we traversed over part of the northern Grampian Mountains through a ski town of Aviemore.  We discovered a small Loch; I wish I could remember the name, for it was such a lovely peaceful place.  The golden sand was soft under foot; the water glittered in the sun with only a few white-caps.  Red sails dotted the surface of the water.  A remarkably tranquil spot.

On our last day of sightseeing, we were able to visit Glamis Castle, near Dundee – ancestral home of H. M. Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother.    Although the castle has been enlarged over the centuries, it is believed that it originated around 1264 as a hunting lodge.  The property was recognized as a thaneage at that time – but by 1276, thaneage changed to “feudal barony” and the property was granted to Sir John Lyon.  The castle has been in the possession of Sir John’s descendants, the Glamis and Bowes Lyon family since that time.   Eighteen Earl’s of Strathmore/Kinghorne have lived under the turrets and in the halls of this haunting building.  Some of the oldest sections are open to the public:  dining room, old crypt, drawing room, chapel, billiard room, and some royal apartments – most with amazing architectural features.  There is a museum and restaurant (once the Castle Kitchen) on the premises.  Lovely gardens are adjacent to the building, which is further surrounded by fertile land populated by cattle.  This castle is the largest I’ve ever seen – after entering the grounds; the long drive is just the preface to what looks to be a storybook building.

Alas, on our final day in Aberdeen, we board our train and begin the journey back to Glasgow.  I am still enthralled by this mode of travel as the marvelous scenery whizzes past me.  Once in Glasgow, we find our hotel (which happens to be an 18th century townhouse) and our room (on the top floor); we lug our suitcases up the stairs.  When we have settled, we go for a walk around Glasgow.  I am somewhat cautious and probably not as open to exploring as my daughter.  So we just walk – through the impressive botanic gardens – then make a brief stop in the Hillhead branch of the Glasgow library.  We do finally settle for the night and ready ourselves for our return flights to D/FW.  Farewell Scotland, you have my heart!

July/August 1998